What if
by Rina Rose
Summary: ...someone had discovered how NICE the Dursleys really were to Harry? What if he had actually had a chance at a normal family life?
1. Chapter 1

_I'm in my room again. I'm making myself invisible. I'm silent. They can't see me or hear me. Because if they do, they are going to hold me down and beat me again. They never leave marks. Only the pain. And then they laugh as they throw me in a corner and tell me to shut up already and not be such a baby. My fists are still stuffed in my mouth so no sob will escape. Escape. Oh how I wish I could._

The boy curled up inside the cupboard that protected him, at least in his fantasy it did. And so far, his family had left him alone when he hid there. His parents had died when he'd been only a year old and his mother's sister and her husband had taken him in. To children's servies, it had been an act of generosity and kindness and it hadn't taken long for them to ease up on and finally abandon regular check-ups altogether. It had left the small boy entirely at his relatives' mercy. His cousin, older by a year, took advantage of having a scapegoat. Even when the crimes committed were way beyond his young cousin's abilities, he got blamed, and the elder fled crying crocodile tears to his mother while the father undertook the smaller boy's punishment. It seemed to do far more than satisfy any urge to educate and instill values. The boy knew on some level that the grunts and groans following each smack and slap were out of the ordinary and he pinched his eyes shut, biting his little fists to give the man no further incentive. Instinctively he took himself out of the picture, his mind busy creating a safe world for himself where the outside world couldn't reach. And always when the man left, he would quietly slip to the bathroom and clean himself off. The cold water also took away some of the sting that the man's palmprints left on his skin. Then the cupboard would embrace and comfort him. Darkness became safety and the boy became invisible.

The woman went to answer the door. "Mrs. Dursley?", the man standing on the step said. He carried a briefcase and was accompanied by a primly dressed woman in her late twenties whose look froze Petunia to the core. Her mind frantically ran through all the options and stopped at the thought of where Vernon was right now. She attempted to smile but couldn't quite hide her anxiety as she said, "yes, what can I do for you?" "May we come in, Mrs. Dursley? We're from children's services and need to speak to you on account of a complaint we've received several times. In spite of your generosity in taking in your sister's son, we do need to see him and assure ourselves of his wellbeing. You do understand, don't you?"

Petunia stepped back and pointed the way to her livingroom, graciously bidding them to seat themselves while she got Harry. She also offered them something to drink which both coldly declined. As she rushed up the stairs to her nephew's room, she prayed that Vernon would be in his study but when she passed it, it was empty and her heart fell. When she came closer to Harry's door, she could hear the frantic slapping and her husband's groans, telling her the state of affairs. She didn't bother knocking, instead she silently closed the door behind herself and slapped Vernon's face. His eyes had been closed and his hands had been busy, she could see. Harry's small butt, thighs and lower back were bright red and the boy had curled himself up as much as humanly possible, hanging over one of his uncle's ample thighs. Petunia held her hand over Vernon's mouth about to open in outrage and shook her head. The fear in her eyes must have communicated to him as he stifled the yell of rage at the interruption of his endeavours. She mouthed, "Children's services, they want to see Harry, what do we do?" as Vernon set Harry on the floor and zipped his fly. "Wash him up, Pet, I'll keep them entertained and Dudley should be home from kindergarten soon. I think we have enough distractions in place and Harry knows to keep his mouth shut, don't you, boy?" He shook the boy, and Harry nodded frantically, relieved to be saved from further torture for the moment. He allowed Petunia to lead him away and Vernon steamed down corridor and stairs, running his hand through his sparse hair and taking deep breaths to calm himself.

The visitors had become a little anxious in the meantime. After all, how long could it take to fetch a small boy left to his own devices, apparently? When Vernon walked in, smiling, and apologised for the delay, Harry had had a little accident and his wife was only giving him fresh clothes, the man relaxed a little. The woman however, asked if Harry's accidents were a regular event, and if he still wet his bed at night, watching Vernon closely as he cast about for an answer. After some stuttering attempts to cover his ignorance, he told them that Harry of COURSE was a really good boy and that such incidents occurred only every once in a blue moon now. He was three and a half and had learned very well to relieve himself properly and all by himself now. Vernon also tried to offer the two social workers something to drink, but both declined once more and the woman finally stood and firmly told him she would go lend a hand to Petunia as it seemed to take a bit long for only a change of clothes. She walked up the stairs. Vernon listened to every step, almost picturing in his mind where precisely she was at each moment, dreading that one when she would reach Petunia and Harry. It was a welcome distraction when the doorbell rang. He nearly jumped out of his chair and told the social worker it must be the busdriver who brought his son from kindergarten. The man nodded, staying seated as Vernon welcomed Dudley home and brought him to the livingroom to introduce the two of them. "Daddy, wot the man want here?" the boy inquired, "and where's Mommy? I's hungwy!" The social worker looked Dudley over, noting the boy's figure closely resembling his father's girth. He wondered at the boy's age and vocabulary. Could he really be four and a half?

In the meantime, the female social worker had quietly made her way to the end of the corridor. The bathroom door was not quite closed and she heard Petunia's soothing voice, at first unable to distinguish the words. "It's ok, Harry dear.. it will be ok by tonight and I'll even give you sweet dessert if you just don't talk to the people downstairs. You be a good boy now and tell them how much we love you and everything will be alright." At that, she pushed the door open, picked up the half-dressed boy, his hands still wrapped in the t-shirt Petunia had just been putting on him, and whisked him out the door. Harry gasped in surprise, but held on to the stranger anyway. In his mind, any change could only be for the better. As the social worker passed the livingroom, she called out to her colleague, "Serve them the papers. It's all true. And make sure they pack a bag for him before the police take them away." She walked out the front door, cuddling Harry to her and only stopping to put the rest of his shirt on when she had him safely in the car. Her movements were gentle and she caressed his arm while she strapped him into the car seat. "We'll take care of you now, Harry. You don't have to be afraid anymore. They can't hurt you now, sweetheart." She sat next to him and when he reached for her hand, she allowed him to hold on tight as they waited for the man to join them.

Arabella Figg stood in her breakfast nook as she watched the social workers' arrival and her first thought was to contact Albus Dumbledore. She walked to the back of her house, out into her garden, straight to the small foliere she had allowed the Hogwarts' headmaster to set up there. She quickly sat on the bench beside it, took paper and pen from the drawer underneath it and wrote a few words. Quick and efficient in her movements, she attached the rolled up paper to the foot of a small grey owl that leaned its head into her hand before it hooted once and took off. Arabella threw in some grain and opened a cage of mice before she closed the foliere once more. Frantic squeaking on one side and fluttering of wings on the other accompanied her walk back to her house. By the time she reached the kitchen door, contented silence had set in again as the owls fed on their prey. The small elderly woman heavily sat down at the table where she could watch what happened and she found herself praying that help would come in time. When she saw the woman put the small boy clinging to her in the car, and moments later the man join them, she knew she had failed. A single tear slid down her cheek as she inadvertantly waved goodbye to the boy she'd tried to watch over.

It was late evening when the Headmaster was back in his office. Immediately he noticed the small owl perched on his window sill, and his steps were unusually quick as he went to relieve it of its burden. He quietly thanked the small bird and watched for a moment as it took off to the owlery. The sparse message on the paper made him sigh and stroke his beard anxiously.

Eventually he went to bed. Fawkes settled on the rod on his nightstand, tucked in his head and went to sleep. Sleep eluded Albus Dumbledore for quite some time, until even his busy mind decided his body needed rest.

He woke up early, and as he dressed in the unfamiliar clothes he would have to wear today, he shook his head at the effort Muggles went to to look proper and businesslike. At last, he stood and tucked his pocket watch into the vest next to his wand and stepped up to the fireplace. "Ministry of Magic," he clearly and loudly stated as the powder dissipated with a puff, delivering him to one of the many fireplaces on the Ministry's main hall. He quickly walked out the front doors and sought out a phonebooth with a directory inside. The address he found under the entry he'd sought, surprised him a little. He'd expected it to be in a slightly better part of town. But then, it figured... Maybe the location was chosen for a reason. He stepped out of the cubicle and walked to the curb, hailing a cab. It didn't take long for one to stop for the imposing old man and he folded his tall frame into the backseat with some difficulty. Brooms were SO much more comfortable but today he couldn't afford to look conspicuous. He got a surprised look from the cabby when he told him the address he wanted to get to but without further ado, he started driving.

After 40 minutes and some backstreets to avoid the traffic in the main arteries of London, they arrived in front of a non-descript house in a residential area. Dumbledore paid and got out. He looked up at the four storey building and hoped he would find what he sought there. He took the steps with assurance and opened the door to "Children's services" as the plaque beside the door stated boldly.


	2. Chapter 2

The social worker carefully opened the seat belt of Harry's car seat and picked him up. He was fast asleep and she made sure he was resting against her comfortably. She wondered if it had been the right choice to simply remove him. But what she had seen, had left only one conclusion and that demanded action.

She walked into Children's Services' headquarters, doing her best not to shake the small boy too much and made her way up the stairs to the pediatrician's office. She hoped that the female doc would be on duty as she had a feeling that Harry might not appreciate the avuncular older doctor who looked too similar to Vernon Dursley for comfort. She opened the door to the waiting area, encountering only empty chairs and walked through the unmanned reception area straight to the office door. She knocked once and opened it.

_No, no, no, no! I haven't been bad, I've been a good boy! Where is she taking me, I need my room, my cupboard, it's too light here. I can't open my eyes. But I have to open them. I NEED to see the cupboard, I need to be silent and invisible before he finds me again. Please please please._

The doctor watched silently as the social worker set the small sleeping form down on the gurney, gently slipping a pillow under his head before she stepped away. She went to sit next to the doctor and they quietly discussed the necessary check-ups.

The doctor kept an eye on the little boy, wondering whether he'd come out of this unscathed. In her experience, children this age still had a fighting chance, if they were given much love, understanding and security. The older they were, the more scars they had to deal with usually. And for some, the wounds never closed. Those were the hopeless cases. The ones that on top of the wounds inflicted on their souls, often enough ended up inflicting wounds on themselves. And that all too often led to a fatal result. She could only do her best for this precious one and hope it would give him a chance to start over.

When Harry woke up, he wasn't sure where he was and very quietly sat up to look around. He noticed a reading lamp in a corner giving off soft comforting light and smiled. A restrained clearing of a throat made his head whip around and he stared with wide open eyes until he realised that the woman behind the desk was neither the social worker nor Aunt Petunia. He sighed in relief and climbed off the bed he'd lain on. "May I use the bathroom, please?" he inquired politely and the woman smiled, stood up and took his hand. "May I show you where it is, Harry? I'm Rhonda. We'll talk about dinner in a bit, once you've washed your hands." She winked at him and he wondered if she would slap him if he tried to touch her nice curly hair. For the moment though, he was content to be led to the bathroom, surprised that she let him go inside all by himself. After he had relieved himself, he washed his hands. For the first time since he'd been whisked out of the Dursley's home, he looked in the mirror above the basin. His eyes looked huge and he quickly washed away the tracks of dirt and tears streaking down his cheeks. It felt good, and he wondered only how long this reprieve would last.

When he returned, Rhonda picked him up and he let her, instinctively aware she meant him no harm. "Well, Harry, are you hungry?" "I would like something to eat, please, if it's no bother, Miss Rhonda?" he replied and she mentally shook her head at the phrasing. He couldn't be three and a half, he sounded as if he was closer to five. Would he even interact with children his age? Her mind went a million miles a minute, until she realised she still needed to find out what Harry liked to eat. "Shall we go for fish and chips, dear? Or would you rather have pizza? What do you like, Harry?" she asked and half expected him to jump at the chance of pizza. His response came rather unexpectedly for her. "I'll eat whatever you'll have, Miss Rhonda. I don't want to be a bother. Aunt Petunia says it's impolite to impose on others." Her smile was closer to tears than she'd been in a long time. What on earth had the people been thinking when they gave this sweet boy to a family like that? Why had no one bothered checking more closely? It made her mad and she tensed, but relaxed immediately when she noted Harry's reaction. He'd curled up and made himself as small as possible while still clinging to her. "No worries, Harry, we'll take a walk and see what we find, how's that?" Her smile had made him relax too and he nodded, still slightly apprehensive but too hungry by now to care.

The next morning, after a night spent inside the dresser of his room, Harry was Rhonda's first patient. She greeted him like someone she'd known for ages and made him laugh with her silly antics with her instruments while she casually checked his well-being. When she began asking him questions about his family, he clammed up and she soon determined it was a pointless endeavour. She knew he would need time, and most of all, someone he could learn to trust. When the examination was over, Rhonda personally took him over to their daycare program and stayed to watch his interaction with the other children there. Some of them came from places like Harry's family. Some of them lived in children's homes and some came from healthy families. It was an integrative type of daycare and Rhonda loved the effect the mix had on most of "her" kids after a while. Harry's approach was very tentative which was not surprising at all. But he did find another small boy that he built Lego castles with, and since he was deeply engrossed in his activity, Rhonda left to tend to her other patients.

By noon she had made a few calls, and the couple she'd had in mind offered to come over for a quick get-to-know to see if Harry would consider staying with them. In Rhonda's opinion, Harry's best chance was to be integrated in a family again as soon as possible. He was too small and vulnerable for a children's home, and she knew this particular family was perfectly suitable for what she had in mind. The parents were dedicated to providing a home for children who'd been victims of abuse. The father was a talented surgeon, but was in a position to keep his hours flexible enough to fully support his wife in the care of the children. She had completed her studies of child psychology and would have made a great social worker if she hadn't preferred this more personal form of helping children. Currently they had one other foster child, a boy slightly older than Harry who had lost his parents and older sister in a car crash when he had been 7 months old. His only memory of family were his foster parents and he was utterly happy with them. Rhonda thought that the similarity of the situation would allow Harry to work through his fears while at the same time having continuous positive support. Now she "only" had to convince him too.

After lunch, the children were split up in groups, depending on age and interests. Without Harry's knowledge, the boy he sat next to had been snuck into the group by Rhonda to allow the boys a chance to get to know each other without undue pressure one way or another. "Hi there, I'm Nathan. But everyone calls me Nate. What's your name?" the tall blond boy introduced himself to Harry with a smile. Harry flinched, intimidated by his height and caught completely off guard by the friendly approach. "Um... Ha-Harry. Hullo Nate," he stuttered and then smiled in spite of himself. As much as some animalistic urge in him made him want to run, this boy was as different from Dudley as day from night. He sensed he'd have no need to escape. He looked around for Rhonda, but they arrived to the park they could play in all afternoon just then and he was distracted by Nate's enthusiasm immediately.

By the time the group returned, parents were waiting to pick up kids and Harry grew anxious, wondering if Vernon and Petunia would simply take him home again. When Nate saw his parents and sprinted off with a happy shout, he suddenly felt very alone - until Rhonda called his name and he ran to meet her, almost jumping into her arms. At the last second he reined himself in and only smiled at her. She smiled back and took his hand to walk over to Nate's family with him. "Harry, I believe you know Nathan already..." "NATE! Rhonda, I TOLD you so!" Nate piped in and they all laughed. Except for Harry who was shocked at the bold way his new friend acted towards Rhonda - she was a DOCTOR after all and one had to be polite. Or get punished. He held Rhonda's hand harder as she went on with the introductions. "This is Alicia, or Mrs. Davis, but I'm sure she will prefer it if you call her Alicia." "That's right, Harry, do call me Alicia, or Lisha, like the little brat here," she reached for Nate's head and tousled his hair until he begged her to stop, fit to fall down as he was giggling so much. "This is my husband, Anthony. But he goes by Tony when he's not working. When he's at the clinic, he's Dr. Davis, but we try to avoid needing him in that capacity." She laughed and the tall man knelt to get to Harry's height. "Would you like to come see where Nate lives? I think we can rustle up another bed for the night and tomorrow morning we'll bring you right back to Rhonda and the other children here." Harry looked up at Rhonda who smiled and nodded in reassurance. "I'll be waiting for you tomorrow, Harry. You'll have fun, I'm sure, while I'll work tonight.. and you'll be safe, I promise." She leaned down and hugged him, before Nathan reached for his hand and dragged him away to their "cool car, look we even have another car seat for you! It's a Spiderman one, I picked it out and you can have my Batman sheets for tonight too..."

By the time they had eaten supper and the boys had brushed their teeth, Harry was fit to pass out. It had been a long day for him and he felt overwhelmed. He'd never been allowed to sleep at someone else's place, not to mention make an actual FRIEND. Even though Nathan was a bit much for Harry's hurting soul, his enthusiastic chatter also soothed him. Alicia put them to bed, gently hugging Harry and telling Nate his dad would come say goodnight in a minute too. In spite of Nate's continued assault on his ears, Harry started dozing. When the door opened and the tall shadow of Dr. Davis stood in the lit doorway, he panicked. He tore out of the covers and ran for Nate's dresser. He climbed in, slammed the door and sat behind Nate's shoe boxes and on some matchbox cars. But even the metal bits poking through his pajamas couldn't take the anxiety away. He willed himself invisible, his heart beating so hard he thought it would jump out of his chest, and sat hugging himself, waiting for the inevitable opening of the door.

When it did, he pinched his eyes shut, waiting for the equally inevitable yelling and being dragged out and punished.

Dr. Davis opened the cupboard door slowly, after telling Nate to stay in bed. Gently he told Harry not to be afraid, that everything was ok and that he had no problem if he chose to sleep in there. But that maybe, just maybe, would Harry like a blanket? As he finished opening the door, he realised he'd been speaking to empty space. He told Nate to turn on the light and gasped when the cupboard remained empty. Harry had vanished.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry, folks. The summer has been a little crazy, somewhere between a planned but abandoned wedding, 5-6 children all over the house and the weather not really playing along with the concept of "summer". So.. here's the next installment of Harry-nowhere-near-the-Dursleys story.

~~ - Harry's thoughts. He's just a lil tyke, but the abuse and the magic have done their parts in making him more mature than is good for him (often enough).

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk and looked at the vial he was holding. Carefully he tipped it and allowed the memory to flow into the pensieve. He sighed as he let himself review it again.

_The receptionist politely greeted the distinguished looking elderly gentleman that had just closed the door behind himself. He walked over to her desk and politely inquired where he might get information on a child recently removed from his family's home. The receptionist equally politely asked for the name of the child, and when he gave it, picked up the phone. She very quietly spoke for a minute and then pointed him to the elevator. "Fourth floor, room 419, Sir. Mrs. Edgewater is expecting you." He smiled and nodded, walking over to the elevator and pushing the button._

_He knocked on the door and entered when a female voice bade him to. Mrs. Edgewater was younger than he had expected, but dressed and behaved like someone a couple of decades her senior. She showed him to a visitor's chair and sat down facing him. "Would you like anything to drink, Mr... ?" she asked, deliberately leaving him with the open question. "Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore, Mrs. Edgewater, and a glass of water would be much appreciated," he answered with a smile. She rose and used the intercom to tell someone to bring a pitcher of water, cold preferrably, and 2 glasses. When she sat down, she proceeded to ask what his connection to young Master Potter was. Dumbledore explained that he had been Harry's parents' friend and had executed their will, including placing Harry with his relatives. He also immediately asked what the situation was and if he could see Harry as soon as possible, since of course he would sue for custody if the Dursley family forfeit it. Mrs. Edgewater's face looked as if she was fighting to keep her inner reactions under control at his words, but then the shutters came down and her face became smooth like a pristine lake. "As you are not a relation to young Mr. Potter, I am not at liberty to divulge his current state or location to you, Mr. Dumbledore. And since YOU were responsible for placing him with the Dursley family in the first place, I recommend firmly that you stay as far from this boy as humanly possible before I begin a full-scale investigation into your life that you could, in all likelihood, do without. For the record, you will be blacklisted in any kindergarten, school or daycare that Harry might attend, and immediate action will be taken against you, should you come even close to trying to locate him." Dumbledore sputtered, upset at which turn things had taken and did not resist when the social worker firmly grasped his elbow and escorted him all the way out of the building. She coldly bid him goodbye and slammed the door._

Albus only vaguely remembered the way he had taken to return to Hogwarts. He'd lost Harry. He was devastated and for one of the few times in his life, completely at a loss for the next course of action.

Tony was confused. He was sure he had seen the small boy race into his son's dresser. He was also sure there was no hidden compartment or secret backdoor. Nevertheless he ran his hands along the side of the wall and pushed some matchbox cars aside, wondering if he had gone mad - until he encountered something soft and realised he could hear low soft breaths emanating from someone that sounded as if he was in severe distress. He sat back and softly told Nate to go get Alicia. Then he sat next to the open door and began humming a lullaby that Nate had loved when he'd been smaller. After the third round he noticed that the small boy's breathing had returned to normal and he changed his strategy to story-telling. When Nate returned, holding Alicia's hand, he put his finger on his lips, pointed at the dresser and went on with the story as the other two sat down and looked at the empty space with raised eyebrows. Nate curled up in his mother's lap and she tousled his hair gently in reassurance.

After half an hour and more stories, with Nate getting involved in the telling, there was suddenly a soft fizzing sound from the back of the dresser, and Harry's pajamas flickered into view. Another five minutes later, with Tony unfazedly continuing the tale of the prince's advance through thorns and blooming roses, Harry climbed out and straight onto Tony's lap. When Tony gently put his arm around him, he tensed once but relaxed again when he felt that the intent was not to harm him. Alicia put a sleepy Nate to bed while Tony continued to sit with Harry, softly talking to him. Eventually, Nate had fallen asleep long ago, Harry got up and climbed into his bed, still firmly clinging to Tony's hand. He didn't let go until his eyes had closed and his body had relaxed in exhaustion.

Tony and Alicia sat until the wee hours of the morning, discussing possible reasons for what had just happened and finally went to bed too, frustrated with impossible conclusions.

The next morning, Nate woke with the feeling that things were not exactly normal and when he found Harry watching him calmly from the other bed, he remembered the smaller boy's interesting abilities and scooted over to convince him to show him how to disappear too. By the time Tony and Alicia came to get them dressed, the boys had built a tent out of their blankets and all the adults found of the two boys, were the giggling sounds and signs of an abducted flashlight under their blankets. They smiled at each other, glad that the morning was a definite improvement over the previous night. After dressing the boys and feeding them breakfast, they put them back in the car and returned to the daycare center. As soon as the boys were busy playing, the prospective foster parents went to find Rhonda.

Rhonda had been in conference with Mrs. Edgewater for the last hour and a half, both updating the other on their respective findings. When Dr. and Mrs. Davis walked in on them, their faces still displayed their reactions to the blatant neglect Harry had been subjected to.

After the Davis' had told their story of the previous night's adventure, Mrs. Edgewater proceeded to reveal what she had learned from the liaison officer in a rather secretive department of the Home Office. She passed out non-disclosure agreements before she started and after collecting the three signed copies, she told them about the magical inhabitants of the UK and the consequences of fostering and/or adopting a magical child, such as Harry was. She also pointed out that Harry Potter was not just any magical child. He was known as the Boy-who-lived. The only known survivor of an apparently fatal curse known to mankind. After the incident the previous night, the social worker wondered if it was even an option to place Harry with non-magical foster parents. She was surprised to see a flicker of sadness cross Alicia's face. Alicia had allowed Harry's vulnerability to get to her and knew that even after just a day, she would miss the small boy. She was also very much aware that she wanted what was best for him and would let him go if necessary.

Rhonda added her view that Harry had been malnourished, emotionally and physically abused, and she wasn't completely sure of the extent of a possibly sexual abuse as well. He would need therapy to have a chance to regain some of his childhood. Were they willing to cope with the consequences - both on the human and magical level?

Alicia and Tony requested some time to consider their options and left the building to walk to a park close by. They sat on a bench, silently holding hands and watching children play on the swings and slides placed there. After twenty minutes, Tony looked at Alicia and said, "A penny for your thoughts, Lish? Talk to me, please." She gave him a look that was a mixture of sadness and determination. "I want him, Tony. I know the going will be tough and explaining to Nate what Harry can and will do until he learns to control his magic is not going to be a piece of cake, but think about how he would fare now that he's showing at least a bit of trust towards someone and then they abandon him again? He deserves so much better than what life's dealt him so far. Let's do it, shall we?" He gave her a smile, put his arm around her and they stayed for another half hour, silent once more. Equally silently, they returned to the children's services building and stood at the door of the daycare group, watching their boys until Rhonda found them there. When she gave them a questioning look, they nodded and followed her to Mrs. Edgewater's office where they signed the necessary papers after another serious conversation with her.

When the daycare period ended in the early afternoon, the boys walked out to the wardrobe together, Nate helping Harry to tie his shoes and Harry excitedly holding the older boy's hand as they waited for the Davis' to pick them up. As soon as Nate saw them, he ran to hug Alicia while Harry hung back as if he could feel that something had changed today. But when Tony knelt and held his arms open, Harry for once trusted his instinct and flung himself at the patient man who'd not walked away, not yelled at him and simply been there like no one else before. Tony ended up carrying him all the way to the car, seating him and belting him in.

When they had arrived back at the Davis' place, Alicia took Nate upstairs for his shower while Tony sat Harry on top of the counter while he prepared their dinner. Harry watched for a few minutes, then asked politely if Tony wanted him to set the table. The adult laughed to cover up his surprise and shook his head, ruffling the small boy's hair and lifting him for a quick hug that Harry hesitantly returned. "You know, Harry.. we were going to wait until after dinner to tell you and Nate this, but I think I might as well tell you now. Alicia and I have asked to be your foster parents for good, if you would like to stay with us, that is. Think about it and don't worry. No one is going to get mad if you don't want to live here." ~Living here? Was he serious? With a bed of my own that wasn't under the stairs? In a room with a door I could open anytime I wanted to? A room with toys, no less? Tony must've lost his marbles if he even _thought _I'd say no to this.~ Harry gently laid his finger over Tony's mouth and just nodded, with the hint of a smile playing in the corners of his mouth. When the adult set him on his feet, he started looking through the cupboards for the dishes. He would set the table, even if they didn't demand it. For the first time in his life, Harry forgot to worry about possible punishments if he so much as opened the wrong cupboard. Tony eventually reached for the doors of the cupboard above the sink and wordlessly handed the small boy four plates. Then he proceeded to open the drawer containing the cutlery and watched with fascination as the small hands picked out the right number and correct cutlery for what he had been cooking. His heart wrenched at the thought of how badly this must have been drilled into Harry. But he also saw the beginnings of a carefree smile on his face and knew there was a chance things could work out.

When Nate bounded down the stairs in his jammies, Alicia remained at the top and beckoned Harry towards her. He walked up to her and took the hand she held out to him and allowed her to help him shower and put on pajamas as well, even though he was fully capable of doing all that for himself. Of course, Aunt Petunia had only done anything for him as long as he had "forgotten" the right quantities of shampoo and the like - couldn't have it if he used too much. She never bothered to show him how to change the temperature of the water, leaving it cold every single time since she wouldn't waste a drop of warm water on her bothersome nephew. Alicia of course made sure he was comfortable and warm, wrapping him in a big fluffy towel when he was clean. Then she tickled him silly before handing him his pajamas. She let him "fly" down the stairs in her arms, playing Spiderman with him, enjoying his squeals and shouts of happiness just as much as he did.

Alicia started thanking Nate for setting the table when Tony interrupted her and nodded towards Harry. "You set the table? Thank you, Harry, but you don't need to do this here." Her smile showed him she wasn't upset and he calmly said, "I know, Lisha. But I wanted to thank you for letting me stay." She placed a noisy smooch on his cheek and laughed when Nate said, "Better you than me, Harry!"

When the spaghetti had been eaten and the plates stacked in the dishwasher, the boys curled up in their beds and Alicia sat on the bean bag and read them a chapter of Nate's favorite book. Nate's preference changed almost every day, but she had declared they would read through one book before starting the next one. And so, Harry fell asleep to her soft voice reading Batman and Robin's adventure stories...

TBC

Thanks to everyone who's been reading this. 'tis much appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This story is set at the end of 1983. Harry is about 3 1/2, so is Ron and that makes Bill Weasley 12 (2nd year of Hogwarts), Charlie 10, Percy 8, the twins 6 (oy, what a thought, those boys at age 6) and Ginny 2 1/2 approximately. No, the Weasleys won't feature in any major way but I needed to explain this for this chapter to make something else in the plot work out. Enjoy! :)

When the boy woke up, he was sure he was still dreaming. What else would explain the presence of a small mousy-looking man in his bedroom, holding an apple and munching on it looking much like a squirrel with a nut? He closed his eyes once more and returned to the land of dreams while the very real small man quickly transformed back into the rat he had been for more than the last two years...

In the morning, Percy sat in the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as his mother set his breakfast on the table. Fastidiously, he started eating, napkin on his lap, cutlery arranged just so. Molly watched him from the corner of her eye (she was much too busy running herd on those twins of hers, not to mention making sure Ron and Ginny didn't throw their oatmeal at each other in an unguarded moment), wondering how she had managed to have this OCD child dropped into her lap. He'd never completely fit into the family for some unfathomable reason. She knew he would carefully put away his dishes when he was finished, and sure as clockwork he would go and study in his room after feeding Scabbers, the rat. Since he had been old enough to understand the rules, she had never seen him break a single one. She'd also seen him raise his eyebrow in silent reproach when his siblings broke them with abandon.

As Scabbers munched on the bowl of leftovers that Molly had given Percy to feed his pet with, Percy diligently took out Bill's old books from his first year at Hogwarts and opened them to the last page to review and see if he'd retained all the information he'd studied the previous week. He intended to know enough by the time it was his turn to be sorted to be unable to fall behind in his first year and preferrably all the years to follow. Not to mention his ambitions to surpass his father's current position in the Ministry of Magic. He thought highly of him on one hand, after all he was managing to juggle a job with great responsibility AND be a loving father who never sent his children away because he was too busy or tired, but he did wonder why he hadn't got promoted in the time since he was capable of understanding such things. He shook his head again as he noticed his thoughts drifting and focussed on the page he drove himself to study.

Two days later, it was a Friday, when Molly stormed into the boys' room and started yelling at Charlie for his slovenly ways, not cleaning his side of the room - Percy's of course was immaculate, not that a speck of dust would DARE settle there - and not taking down even his last shirt and pants to be washed by her. As if she had the time to be tracking him down, like she had nothing better to do, after all she was only raising his five siblings while Bill was at school and he should know better as he was going there next year as well! When she was catching her breath, Charlie promised to take the laundry down right away and Molly only shook her finger at him once more before she left the room and returned to her duties downstairs. Percy could not suppress a smirk. Charlie had had this dressing down coming for weeks now and he felt satisfied that he had been put in his place. Until his brother started pelting him with the things stuck in between clothes - one of them being a slightly mouldy apple core. "No wonder your side is always so clean, you throw your trash into MY half! You can bloody throw it away yourself, you little neat-freak!" Charlie yelled at his younger brother before leaving a slightly stunned Percy holding an apple core with teeth marks spaced quite unlike his or his brother's teeth.

That evening, after the supper dishes were cleared away and his mother was busy getting his smaller siblings ready for bed, Percy went to the livingroom where his father was reading the "Daily Prophet". "Dad.. I was.. er.. wondering if I could ask you something," he hesitantly began. Arthur Weasly carefully folded the paper and put it down as he turned to his son. He knew that Percy would only approach him like this if the subject was sensitive and prepared for whatever it was that was bothering his offspring. "Dad, the other night I dreamed something and it was strange.. it felt as if it was really happening, but I figured it was part of the dream and didn't pay more attention. But today, I've had proof that it might have really happened and I need to know if you can tell if I'm going mad or something. I don't want to go to St. Mungo's.." At this point, Percy was on the verge of tears and Arthur made some calming noises, patting him gently on the head as he considered the problem. "Not St. Mungo's, son, definitely not. I think I may have a solution for this and after the next few nights, we should know if I'm right or not. Do you mind getting Charlie and Scabbers and waiting outside until I'm finished? The room needs to be empty for a few minutes and then everything will be in place. Don't mention this to your siblings or they may try to mess with it, will you?" Percy nodded, looking much calmer and wandered off to find his brother and his pet.

When the door to the Burrow had closed, Arthur went upstairs and told Molly to make sure the younger children stayed out of the immediate area of the boys' room and began a series of complicated wand movements that turned the doorframe, window and floor into a glowing red for a moment, until he had finished casting the spell. "Cognoscere infamiliaris!" he carefully enunciated and with a quiet "pop" the lit areas returned to normal.

It took three nights and much of Percy's nerves as he waited for whatever it was his father had put into place. It was nearly dawn, that dark time of the night when you can't see your own hand in front of your face, when the whole room was suddenly illuminated in red and a high screechy voice screamed plea after plea, begging to be freed, begging to be forgiven and a small mousy-looking man was thrashing on the floor, wrapped in red bindings the same color as the light in the room. Both Percy and Charlie stared wide-eyed at him until Arthur and Molly came rushing in, both with their wands out, aiming straight at the intruder. "Peter?" Molly incredulously said as she looked at Arthur. "I'll floo the Ministry immediately," he said, returning her surprised look.

A few minutes later, the house was brimming with Aurors and Ministry Officials and Peter Pettigrew was shackled and taken to the Ministry where the temporary charm binding his animagus powers would be turned into a permanent one. Subsequently he would stand trial for the betrayal of the Potter family and would spend the remainder of his natural life in Azkaban. Alastor Moody was already on the way there, with temporary release papers for one Sirius Black whose innocence required only one piece of further proof. During Pettigrew's trial, he was going to be given Veritaserum to confirm the facts as now presumed. Upon said confirmation, he would be released, his name would be cleared and he would be reimbursed for the years he had spent unfairly imprisoned.

Once the house was quiet again and only inhabited by the Weasly family, Molly and Arthur put the children back to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

The mortal guards at Azkaban watched in astonishment and awe as the Dementors opened the gate to let a haggard, stooped man OUT of the gates, leaning on one of the most renowned Aurors the Wizard World had ever known. This truly was a rare sight, one they wouldn't forget in a hurry.

Sirius Black patiently endured the ministrations of the Healer - after all, he was at least lounging on his own couch, in his own clothes, surrounded by his own furniture, dusty and neglected, but nonetheless his own. No one but him held the keys to the doors, and in spite of his grumpy behaviour, there was Kreacher, the house-elf. Finally, the Healer pronounced him slightly malnourished and left an array of bottles in Sirius' kitchen, with precise orders when to drink what and how much. Giving Sirius a doubtful look, she said her goodbyes and left Grimauld Place No. 12.

A few weeks later, when Sirius had gone through his regiment of potions and his hair and beard had re-gained some of their former luster, he began to get bored with his freedom. A few old friends had come to visit and had in turn invited him as well, but something was missing. After he circled his own room once again, he dropped onto his old bed, coughing in the subsequent cloud of dust. He had to remember to tell Kreacher to clean up in here, he thought. Then his eyes fell on the equally dusty photo album that had dropped to the floor. Gently he picked it up, and an old picture, ragged around the edges, fell into his lap. He raised it, and his eyes filled with tears as a tiny boy zoomed in and out of the picture while his parents' legs could be seen following him around. He opened the album and placed the picture next to the pictures of the wedding of his best friend. James and Lily had been radiantly happy on that day and their loss still cut sharper than any sword ever could. He'd failed them utterly and completely. Sirius slumped down on the bed and gave in to his grief and self-pity... until the small happy face of the boy on the broom filled his vision, making him sit up with fresh resolve.

"Kreacher!" he yelled and with a loud pop, the house-elf apparated in front of him, avoiding his eyes. "Clear the dust from the house, while I am gone. I will return in two days and expect the condition of my home to be considerably better by then. Also, I expect the kitchen to be in a condition fit for humans to cook and eat in. And, Kreacher - the House of Black is going to entertain guests and you will conduct yourself appropriately. Do I make myself clear?" The grumpy reply, mumbled with a reluctant nod, was cut off by the next loud pop marking the elf's disappearance. Sirius sighed and waved his wand to collect everything he required for his trip. When he had tied his bag, he threw it over his shoulder and left the house to wait for the Knight Bus. He gave the required amount to the conductor and stepped aboard. Claiming one of the beds as his, he lay down with his head on the bag and closed his eyes until the conductor shook him awake, telling him they had arrived in Hogsmeade.

Slowly, Sirius made his way up to Hogwarts. The lights of the castle glowed invitingly as his breath showed in frosty billows in front of his face. He knew he would be glad of the warmth in Hogwarts' Great Hall. "Lumos," he softly said, holding his wand in front of him to see the path his feet should take. He slipped into the castle after most of the students had left the dinner table and only a few stragglers remained. As he passed them on his way to the front where Albus Dumbledore was still in quiet conversation with a few of the teachers, they looked at him, only to look again and begin whispering among themselves. He smiled to himself as he strode through the Hall, giving the ceiling a passing glance, remembering fondly how much time he had spent here with his friends, in happiness, joy, sadness and at the end, a certain amount of fear what they would all encounter upon leaving. He'd been right to fear leaving the castle's safety. For some of them it had ended badly. And now he had to set to rights what he could. He held Dumbledore's glance, stopping in front of the Teachers' Table and nodded in acknowlegment to the teachers seated there.

"Sirius, you should have given me some notice. Old men don't cope that well with surprises anymore!" The familiar twinkle was visible in his eyes as Dumbledore rose and beckoned Sirius to follow him. On the way to his office, Sirius only gave short answers to Dumbledore's questions, biding his time until he could be sure they were alone. The gargoyle smartly stepped aside after Dumbledore said, "Ginger snaps", and the staircase carried them to the office door. A familiar path for Sirius. While he'd attended Hogwarts, he'd often enough be escorted here by one teacher or another.

Now he came not as a supplicant or penitent student, but to demand information withheld from him for more years than he cared to think about. He didn't wait for Dumbledore's invitation, but seated himself with a flourish in the chair before his desk. As soon as the Headmaster had settled himself behind said desk, Sirius spoke. His voice was low and dangerously calm as he asked, "What have you done about my godson's safekeeping, Albus?"

The older wizard looked at him warily and proceeded to tell Harry Potter's godfather what precisely had occurred in the last five years. From the moment that Hagrid had picked up the small boy on Sirius' own enchanted motorcycle, through Harry's torture by the Dursley family and the subsequent removal from them, all the way to his present attempts to get even a whiff of Harry's whereabouts through any channel, official or not. Sirius' knuckles had gone white, the longer he'd listened and when the older wizard fell silent, he let out a ragged breath. Before he started yelling at the man who had been entrusted with his godson's welfare. His attack on the auditory senses made the portraits cringe and Fawkes fell off his perch with an outraged squawk. Ten minutes later, Dumbledore had given up on any attempts to get a word in edgewise in his own defense and when Sirius had fallen silent and stomped out of his office, he rested his head in his hands in defeat and sadness. Fawkes took one look at his demeanor and flew out the open window without even a glance back.

Sirius Black decided that, as he had the means and the time now, he would not entrust another soul with the quest of finding his godson. He returned to Grimauld Place and tore through his paperwork with a vengeance, ordering Kreacher around like the elf had never seen before. To Sirius' surprise, Kreacher obeyed without fail and when he demanded to know what motivated this change of tack, the muttered reply held explanations of Pure Blood and Duty to the House of Black before the tell-tale pop removed the elf from further questioning. Two days later a respectably, albeit old-fashioned, dressed, shaved and groomed man left Grimauld Place 12 and walked to a phonebooth down the street. He was glad that the explanations how to use the phone were engraved upon a metal plate soldered into the booth, or they'd have vanished, like the rest of the contents of the violated, graffiti-sprayed metal cage holding the phone. With the small store of British currency he'd hoarded, he called a cab. After all, he could hardly use his broom in the center of London.

The cab stopped in front of the same building Albus Dumbledore had left so unceremoniously nearly three years ago. He walked up the steps, entered and spoke to the receptionist who called the relevant case worker, indicating the elevator and tersely giving him a room number he should find upstairs. Sirius walked to the elevator, marvelling at the ingenuity of Muggles who couldn't levitate and yet managed to make him feel as if he had.

He knocked on the door and entered when a female voice bade him to. He found himself in a pleasant office with a wall full of photographs of children's faces, too many to count, a good deal of them captured with a smile, but none of them moving. It seemed very odd to him and he nearly missed shaking the social worker's hand when she greeted him politely. He shook himself out of his fascination and introduced himself. The woman's expression turned carefully blank when he said his name and he hastened to show her the paperwork proving his innocence in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. She looked shaken at having seen that justice had been so long in coming, but soon her look turned into curiousity at what a man like him would be doing here, at children's services, seeing he had no family as of yet.

When he mentioned Harry's name, her features turned into a stern mask of fierce protection and he smiled, for the first time since he had left Dumbledore's office. He reached for his papers again and showed Mrs. Edgewater the picure of Harry zooming through his parents' livingroom on the tiny broom, eyes and face captured in laughter and joy, and the Potters' will, naming Sirius Black as Harry's godfather. The social worker's eyes seemed to water as she saw his feelings clearly displayed and she gently explained to him that Harry had been adopted in the meantime and the file had been closed. Unless Harry himself were to ask for relatives and friends of his parents, she could not interfere with process. Sirius' pleas fell on deaf ears and after leaving his name and address, he too found himself accompanied downstairs by the social worker. She gently bade him leave and apologised again for being unable to help him. His shoulders slumped as he walked down the stair and she watched him with regret. If only he had come sooner...

That evening, she went out with Rhonda for a drink at the pub they frequented on occasion and in low tones told her the day's events. She was still shaken by the miscarriage of justice and the obvious pain in Sirius Black's eyes when she couldn't comply with his request. Rhonda's face showed her sadness as well and they were both subdued when they went on their separate ways home.

A few days later, a letter arrived at Grimauld Place 12. To Sirius' amazement, it arrived by regular mail. Due to the peculiar placing of his home - well concealed from Muggle eyes, and also from anyone else that might try to find him without his consent - the mailman had a slight problem delivering the letter at all. After some confusion and walking back and forth along the street, the mailman finally chose to cheat to gloss over the fact that an address that should clearly exist, did apparently not. He slipped the letter into the stack of Sirius' next door neighbors who, equally confused, stepped out their door just as he was about to walk down the street. "Mr. Black?" a woman well into her fifties hesitantly asked and he, just as hesitantant, nodded and turned to her, wondering what she wanted. "The postman accidentally mixed up our mail, Mr. Black. Here's a letter, I've kept it for you." He thanked her and took the letter with a gallant bow, making her wariness turn into a smile. Slowly he walked away, opening the letter as he went. Only one piece of paper, apparently ripped off a notepad, was contained. It held only a name and the address of a local clinic in neat handwriting. He turned it over - no note, no signature, not even a return address. Shrugging, he pocketed the scrap of paper and made his way to Diagon Alley. His search for his godson had begun.


End file.
